


and make me ill

by ElasticElla



Series: the serial killer ryan quartet [3]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bloodplay, Fluff, Knifeplay, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 14:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13836960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: The boys escape to a place of cocktails and beaches.





	and make me ill

**Author's Note:**

> the fluffy set-up lmao, next one will be the final part \o/  
> the hotel is loosely based on vinorva, but like having read some reviews there’s a heavy splash of fiction to make it Ideal
> 
> out early because ryan maybe im more sadistic than I think i am bergara yall

While Ryan is very amused that Shane knows a guy who can get them usable blatantly false passports so quickly, they aren’t actually going to be flying on Ricky or Banjo’s tickets. They’re not exactly decoy tickets as they’re still using their real passports to leave, more of a six hundred dollar joke. Money isn’t a problem any more- it turns out it’s rather easy to commit a string of robberies when it doesn’t matter if you’re seen. 

It means they’re able to charter a plane to fly them directly to Maldives. (Ryan wasn’t taking a chance this late that a layover in Singapore or Switzerland would end with them sent back to the U.S.) And even if the flight is rather long, having an entire plane to themselves is _nice_. There’s no screaming babies or someone behind him constantly kicking his chair, and Ryan has never appreciated air travel so much. 

“I’m thinking we spend a month or two on King’s Island, get a feel for the place and all our paperwork done, and then we pick out our own island.” 

Shane snorts, “ _You_ living on a basically deserted island? Pull the other one.” 

“It’s gonna be all blue seas and skies-”

“And ghosts don’t appreciate nice scenery?” 

“No!” Ryan exclaims. 

Shane snorts, “Uh huh. We’ll see how you do in our hotel first.” 

“Our new home is not allowed to be haunted,” Ryan says. 

“Oh shit!” 

“What?” Ryan quickly asks. 

“I forgot the holy water back in LA.” 

“Fuck you man.” 

.

The plane landing turns Ryan’s stomach, but even queasy, Maldives is a thing of beauty. Bright blue water stretches out as far as he can see, seamlessly blending into the skyline. Ryan grins up at Shane, “We fucking did it.” 

Shane laughs, grabbing his hand, “Freedom baby, smells like salt.” 

Three suitcases rolling beside them- Ryan _still_ can’t believe Shane didn’t pack more- they’re cruising through customs. A wonderful thing really that they flew in at a time no other planes had, and Ryan makes a mental note to up the pilot’s tip. They take a ferry to Malé proper, it’s only seven minutes long but already being nauseous, the boat ride doesn’t help. (Shane’s hand rubbing his back does, more than he’d admit to his big headed boyfriend.) The Kinorva, the hotel they’re staying at, has a taxi waiting for them to take them to another ferry, and Ryan’s beginning to regret letting Shane make their hotel arrangements. 

Still as the cabbie helps them squish the three suitcases in the trunk, Ryan can’t stop grinning, can’t believe they’re really here. He always figured his life would end in jail or a violent death, not on sandy beaches.

There’s a woman waiting for them with a smile after the second ferry, and two boys that grab their suitcases before they even step on land. 

“Welcome to Vili-Malé! My name is Mariyam, if you need anything during your stay with us, I am at your service.” 

“Great, thanks!” Shane says, and she leads them towards the hotel. 

“Ryan, Shane,” he says introducing each of them because Shane’s too busy staring at the trees to remember manners. 

“Wonderful. Kinorva is a short walk from here, an eighth mile. We can walk or take a golf cart. Which would you prefer?”

Shane snorts, “People take you up on that? Lazy fuckers.” 

Ryan elbows him, “Walking is fine, thank you.” 

The bellhops go ahead in the cart with their suitcases, and Ryan briefly thinks about the diamonds stashed away in one of them. They’re worth much less than Shane transferred to the new offshore account though, and it’s not like they _needed_ to steal the stones. 

The road they take isn’t paved over- clearly only for pedestrians and golf carts- lined with trees and bright green foliage. September is indeed the off-season, and most of the people they come across are locals. 

Mariyam smiles, “The northern half of Vili is all Kinorva land, and most of our activities and amenities are located there. We do also offer island hopping and tours of Malé if you’re interested. You two are staying for quite some time with us…?” 

Shane’s laugh is dark, and Ryan wants to know what the hell got into him. “We needed a break,” Ryan says when her eyes flick to him. Ryan can’t help but notice her smile hasn’t grown or shrunk the entire conversation. God, he’d be _terrible_ at hospitality. 

“You’ve come to the right place,” she declares, and they reach the Kinorva. (It was definitely shorter than an eighth of a mile, but whatever.)

The lobby is bright and open, and after an elevator up to the third floor and a short hallway, they arrive at their room. 

“Wow,” Ryan breathes, taking it in. All the furniture and walls are a crisp white, with deep mahogany accents. The double doors to the balcony are open, a warm breeze fluttering through. Shane thanks and tips Mariyam- Ryan’s forgotten about that, goes to the balcony without thought and stares out at the turquoise waters. 

It’s a hell of a view. 

Ryan wonders if he’ll get used to it by the month’s end, if he’ll sit out here on his phone completely consumed by the internet. And shit, he has to remember to get a voltage converter for their electronics. 

“Home sweet home,” Shane says, and Ryan goes back in to see Shane’s been unpacking. Specifically- he’s decorated the end table. 

“You don’t even fill up one suitcase, and you bring the creepy butterfly encased in glass?” 

“Ohh don’t you mind him Bartholomew-” 

“Bartholomew,” Ryan sputters, can’t believe the fact Shane named the damn thing hadn’t come up before. 

“Bartholomew the butterfly. Me and my aesthetic are a package deal baby.” 

Ryan snorts, “Not if you wanna get laid tonight.” 

Shane grins, crossing the room to scoop Ryan up, and both of them stumble onto the bed. “Wanna bet?” 

Ryan groans- Shane’s elbow definitely hit one of his organs- and holy fuck is this bed soft. 

Shane kisses him, and Ryan blames the bed- it’s too comfortable to _not_ try out right away. 

.

Their stay in paradise feels more vacation than escape for the first week. Everything’s sunshine and cocktails with little umbrellas, and Mariyam knows all the best restaurants on the islands: local or overpriced luxury clearly profiting only from the tourism market. They go on submarine tours and snorkeling, join in barbecues on the beach and dancing in the streets under the moonlight. 

In another life, it would have made for a perfect vacation. 

(Another life would have been boring as fuck.)

Shane wakes him up one morning, and without work, Ryan honestly doesn’t know what day it is. 

“They know,” he says, passing him the tablet opened to a news article. 

Local paper is Ryan’s first thought, his parents don’t know yet. Probably didn’t answer the phone if any reporters called- they never answer unknown numbers. Jake though-

_TWO EX-BUZZFEED MILLENNIALS: GAY LOVERS, YOUTUBE SENSATIONS, AND MURDERERS?_

The title’s overly sensational but he didn’t expect much more from the L.A. Times’ blog. It’s not even on their real paper dammit. He skims the article, stopping when Tasha’s name pops up. 

_‘-I don’t care what the victim’s body indicated, you don’t stage an elaborate murder scene like that your first time.’_

“Aww hon, she thought you were experienced,” Ryan teases. 

“Keep reading,” Shane says. 

_Another cop on the case, Detective Crews, says it was clearly amateur work and the missing persons cases in the surrounding area are just that- missing. ‘We need to keep our eyes open for them, we could still find them.’ (See images at the bottom of the post of all reported missing persons from the surrounding areas in the past year.)_

Ryan scrolls down, surprised that they actually got most of them. Nine out of thirteen of the headshots he killed, and they’re only missing three others. There’s an even more interesting picture of the crime scene though, and Ryan’s stomach flips. 

“Shane… you uh, didn’t go back right?” 

“What? No of course not, why?” 

Ryan swallows, “The knife moved.” 

He hands over the tablet, and Shane shrugs at the knife on the coffin the body was on rather than the floor. (The artistry is destroyed, without the corpse the image feels hollow.) 

“Some idiot police officer probably moved it.” 

Ryan pouts, hates how very reasonable and probable that sounds. “Still could be Johnny’s ghost.” 

Shane laughs, “Babe if that were true, I think he would have stabbed me with the knife instead of moving it after.” 

“Whatever,” Ryan grumbles. 

“Alright, how about I run downstairs and get us some strawberry daiquiris and we can spend the morning making a sand fort?” 

Ryan sniffs dramatically, “Bacon too.” 

“You got it,” Shane says, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose and flouncing off. 

Ryan looks back at the crime scene photo, a chill running down his back when he looks at the knife. God he wishes they kept it. 

.

That evening there’s a follow up piece- in their real paper this time- stating that there’s a warrant out for Shane’s arrest. 

The sand fort was a relative success with three walls, open to the ocean. The left side caved in but the right side is castle-ish and has two cup holders carved into it. Both of them are sitting inside, the tide coming in with water lapping at their feet as Shane reads the latest article. 

“I can’t believe they didn’t get a warrant for you too.”

Ryan laughs, “I’m not the one who left my bloody handwriting on a body.” 

Shane exhales, amusement clear. “Yeah, that’s true.” 

“Promise I won’t testify against you,” Ryan jokes. 

“I’d never want to testify against you baby, marry me.” 

Ryan drops his mai tai, “You did _not_ just do that.” 

Shane swallows, clearly about to backtrack. “Obviously I-”

“That was the _worst_ proposal ever. Where are my flowers dammit? Or a ring!” 

Shane smiles, “We’re on a beach all alone, it’s sunset. C’mon, some props.”

“I want a ring,” he insists, and sliding onto Shane’s lap, they quickly destroy the last two remaining sand walls. Sand is bound to get everywhere but that only means they’ll have to spend more time in the jacuzzi later. (The jets _do_ work.)

.

Ryan’s paranoid that people are going to start treating them differently, refuse them service, that they’ll _know_ , and Shane says he’s being ridiculous. 

“Look,” he finally says, after Ryan insists he wants take out for the fourth meal in a row. “Even if they did know- which right now I doubt anyone outside of the state does- they’re not going to do anything. We’re in a tourism economy and we are the tourists.” 

Ryan crinkles his nose, “That’s gross.”

“We’ll start looking for our own island early then. Okay?” 

“Yeah.”

Part of it, or hell maybe even most of it, is due to the fact that he hasn’t killed anyone in so long. He had a set pattern, and then it accelerated only to be cut off. And he’s sure watching Shane kill someone, as much as that was, just exacerbated the problem. 

He positively itches to kill, but he chose Shane over murder when he didn’t set him up to take the fall for everything. And he’s happy with that choice, he is, he loves Shane. He just also loves killing people. 

It’s like a diet: Ryan might hate them, but he can stick to it. 

.

A few more days of mixed bliss and blessings, and then it happens- the internet discovers their story. There’s a still from one of their episodes, Ryan’s quote to Shane over it, ‘That’s like serial killer shit dude, what are you talking about?’ 

People are theorizing that Shane’s behind the missing person cases, that he kidnapped his boyfriend away and Ryan can’t keep reading this bullshit. 

Shane finds the spotlight much more amusing, “We went viral baby!” 

There’s no way Jake hasn’t said something to their parents by now, probably couching it with the theory that Shane’s really the bad one. Fuck. 

Ryan just wants to rip something, _someone_ , apart. Wants to be in control again, wants to feel it. The yearning keeps growing stronger, and in the morning Shane has a solution. 

Shane waits until they’ve both finished eating brunch on the beach, each nursing a second mimosa. He starts stripping off all his clothes, and Ryan is game for whatever Shane’s about to throw at him. 

He hands him a heavy folded knife, “I was thinking today you can cut me.” 

“Holy shit,” Ryan breathes. 

“Not kill me, to be clear,” Shane tacks on with a goofy smile. 

“I wouldn’t,” Ryan says, still digesting the idea. To cut into someone that he wants to live, that isn’t disposable…

“I’ll be at the water’s edge when you decide,” Shane says, patting his shoulder and standing. 

“Ocean water in open cuts can’t be hygienic,” Ryan says, getting up. 

Shane grins, throws an arm around his shoulders as they pass through warm thick sand to increasingly damp and compressed. “I want the water lapping at my feet.”

“Uh huh.” 

“And I thought you liked me dirty baby?” 

Ryan groans, “That was terrible.” 

Shane plops down on his ass, big feet in the shallow water. 

Ryan cringes, there’s cleaning out sand from everywhere and then there’s _everywhere_. Shane doesn’t seem to care though, placidly staring out at the ocean. Ryan flips the knife open, curious what Shane picked out for himself.

Oh. He did well. 

It’s a short dagger, Ryan’s always preferred those, likes the intimacy of it. It’s a smooth steel, one side with a straight cutting edge and the other serrated. 

“It’s a fishing knife,” Shane says. “Guy said it’s good for quick filleting.” 

“I bet,” Ryan murmurs, sitting down behind Shane. It’s almost obscene how much his legs have to spread for Shane to sit between them, but he’s not the one naked on a semi-private beach. (Sure they have a reservation, but do other guests really check those quadrants before heading out? They didn’t even know it existed until recently.)

“You’re positive?” Ryan asks, steel brushing against Shane’s shoulder. 

“AB negative actually.” 

“AB-” Ryan echoes softly, laughing under his breath. “Thanks, that really changes things.” 

“The more you know,” Shane says, stretching out and leaning back into Ryan’s lap. Ryan moves his arms on top of Shane, careful not to nick him with the blade yet. The new position means his tentative idea of carving flowers into Shane’s back won’t work, but having Shane’s bare ass in his lap? Beyond worth it. 

Ryan hooks his chin on Shane’s shoulder, bringing the serrated edge against his leg first. He drags it down his leg, not pressing hard enough to break the skin, but enough to grab his attention. 

“You don’t have to uh, tender ball this, I’m good,” Shane says and Ryan laughs into his neck. 

“Soft ball,” Ryan says, bringing the point up his other leg. He presses a little harder, just hard enough for a pale line to emerge.

“That makes no-” Shane’s words cut off into a gasp as the knife tip slips into his skin. His body is frozen, only his chest moving in steady breaths against Ryan. The vulnerability hits him then- so much sweeter than in a victim, that Shane is allowing this. Ryan pulls the knife out, a droplet of blood bubbling up in its wake. 

It rolls down his calf, drying up as it goes, and stops before it even hits his ankles. 

He wants to stab much deeper at that, watch Shane’s blood turn the pretty turquoise water purple. But he wants Shane to be able to walk more, resigning himself to shallow slices. 

“That all you got Bergara?” Shane asks. His hands move under both of them, cupping Ryan’s thighs. 

“Shut up. There’s a lot of real estate here, I was thinking.” 

Ryan goes for little divots on the other calf next, carving out tiny chunks of flesh. They mostly just bring blood to the surface rather than bleed, but Ryan likes the look of them. 

“Spread your legs,” Ryan says, and they fall open. 

He slowly slices a long line from his knee all the way up to the edge of his thigh, Shane’s quiet moans increasing the further he gets. The boner isn’t a surprise, and Ryan ignores it for now- is pretty sure a crack about cutting off three inches and it still being sizable won’t go over well. 

He cuts the crease between his groin and thigh next, blood sliding down and dripping into the ocean. It makes a little spill of red in the water, disperses when the next wave comes in. Ryan wonders how much blood it would take before a quick dispersion wasn’t possible- how long an entire person’s insides would stay together without skin or bone or-

But this is Shane. Ryan turns to press a kiss to his neck, and when Shane hums, he swiftly opens up his other leg. Shane’s grip tightens under his thighs, cursing. 

“So good for me,” Ryan says, bringing the serrated edge down to brush all his blood down, to collect the small bits that wouldn’t move alone. He hits snags as he does it: a few earlier cuts half-scabbed over, Shane’s leg hair getting matted in blood, and the knife breaking skin occasionally. 

But he keeps at it until there are two thick anklets of blood, Shane’s legs bare and pink, a light coating of red where the deeper cuts were.

Ryan folds up and tosses the blade behind them, fingers gliding over Shane’s chest. 

“Now what?” Shane asks, voice hoarse. 

“The tide comes in.” 

“To destroy my lovely new anklets?” 

Ryan laughs, and grabs his dick. “You betcha big guy.” 

“Gonna do something or just play with it?” Shane asks, and Ryan’s tempted to say the latter. 

Ryan slaps his thighs, making Shane groan, “Stand up then.” 

He does, eyes crawling the beach. “I feel so exposed-”

Ryan sits up on his knees, swallowing him down with the taste of the ocean. 

“-to the glory of god, holy shit,” Shane finishes, fingers threading through Ryan’s hair. 

And yeah, Maldives is gonna be a perfect new home.


End file.
